


drums

by riahk



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Drabble, Flirting, Gen, shippy in the "They sure are standing next to each other" sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29006415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riahk/pseuds/riahk
Summary: Dorothea, the goddess of music and mortal desire, encounters Felix, the god of battle. The two learn they have more in common than they think.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault & Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Kudos: 4
Collections: Felix Rarepair Week 2021





	drums

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short little piece that I wrote a couple months ago, inspired by the Garden of Eden Deity Project. But seeing as it's Felix Rarepair Week, and one of the Day 3 prompts is "Fantasy/Mythical Gods AU" I figured this was a good time to post it! Nothing too romantic, though I may follow it up with a spicier sequel when the mood strikes me. :) Enjoy!

The Tailtean Plains have always been a popular location to wage war, though even Felix has to admit he’s growing bored of the same old scenery. He’s forgotten the circumstances that led to today’s clash — those particulars have never been his strong suit. All that matters is the two opposing armies falling into their formations. Cavalry first, proud lances at the ready; behind them the more numerous infantry with their swords and axes, rounded out by lines of archers unstrapping the longbows from their backs.

And both sides have prayed to him, made offerings in hope of victory, so he is obligated to oversee the conflict. While he does appreciate the patronage, it is not the reason he’s here. Felix’s undying heart follows only the rhythm of the march, reveling in the prospect of a good fight. From the hills that slope along the edges of the vast stretch of earth, he embraces the calm before the storm.

But someone else, another power, is watching with him.

A curvaceous, luminous figure enters from the edge of his vision, her soft footsteps sending whispers rushing through the tall grass. Crimson cloth and gold adornments mark a sharp contrast against the muted scenery; even her dark hair has a lustrous shine under the grey sky. Green eyes regard him quietly. But it's not in her nature to stay silent for long.

"Hello, Felix," Dorothea purrs, coming to stand on his right side, hands hooked together neatly behind her back and carefully hidden beneath the drape of her gown. She waits for him to speak, knowing her mere presence is provocative.

And he knows her, superficially, has seen her face and heard her name spoken in the ether — normally in more pleasant locales. Still, he has caught more recent glimpses of Dorothea around the soldiers, a beautiful and seemingly misplaced apparition. Curiosity breaks him. “What are you doing here?” he asks, gaze still fixed on the sea of spears and spellcasters. “Isn’t there an opera house where you’re better suited?”

“Skipping formalities. As rude as ever,” Dorothea answers, though she sounds more amused than slighted. Her face slides into his view, demanding his attention. “But rather than giving you a straight answer, perhaps you should close your eyes and listen more carefully,” she says.

Felix sighs but follows the suggestion, knowing she will not be quiet until he does so. His eyelids flutter closed, focusing on the distant sounds that he has barely noticed until now. Chatter and commands as the generals prepare their regiments. The clink of armor in motion. And a subtle repetition, the one he suspects Dorothea wants him to acknowledge. “Drums,” he mutters, eyes opening again. She’s moved to his left, twirling happily. Is she ever able to sit still?

“Drums,” she echoes. “And fifes and horns and more,” she adds joyfully. “A whole retinue of musicians, calling on me for guidance. After all, the stakes are quite high out there.” The highest, even, Felix wants to say, but he’s reluctant to egg her on.

“I understand your point,” he says, crossing his arms. “It’s still strange to see you out here. I was under the impression you loathed war.”

Dorothea’s voice drops low, contemplative. “Yes, it’s not my favorite. I much prefer songs performed on the stage, or sweet ditties composed under trees in the garden. Musical professions of love and desire, not marches for war.” Her words dance around him and she is at his side again, closer than before. Felix stands unfazed.

“But it’s not just the music that’s calling to me,” she continues, watching the crowds with him. “Every person out there is fighting for something, Felix. Something they want… I’m sure you see where this is going.”

He does. “People desire things all the time. It’s in their nature. Don’t you think you’re overstepping a bit?”

She giggles, shrugs. “Maybe I am. Maybe their desire for all things has rubbed off on me.” The statement hangs in the air, and they go back to their silent watching. For a time, at least, but soon Dorothea has more observations to share. “You know, most of them are fighting for their country, for glory… to protect their families,” she says. “Some have loftier ideals they’d like to uphold. But a select few of them are far more interesting.”

“Oh?” Felix asks, reactively, his curiosity moving more quickly than his restraint. Dorothea does not miss his slip.

“Some of them are here solely to be immersed in the thrill of it,” she says. “Their blades seek worthy opponents, the challenge of a good fight to test the devotion of their skill.” Felix’s eyes flick in her direction, his chin tilting down slowly. Dorothea’s cadence grows more frantic, a crescendo building. “And some just want the violence, to maneuver through the mayhem of it all. To taste blood on their lips—”

“Yes,” Felix bites out, stilling her tongue. “That desire I can see clearly.”

Her tone is soft again. “You don’t sound particularly enthused by it.”

“It is what it is,” he replies calmly.

She places a hand softly on his shoulder, gazing sympathetically. "Battle will wear anyone down, I think. Even the ones who rule over it." He opens his mouth to protest, but Dorothea is too quick, moving in so her chin hooks into the crook of his neck, fingertips drumming against the leather straps fastened to his cloak. "Isn't there anything else you want, Felix? Something else that would please you?"

Her question is barely a whisper in his ear, her lips hovering tantalizingly close to his skin. Her breath is warm, soothing. All things he does not want to admit. Or wants to keep secret, as the overbearing woman beside him would frame it.

Felix inhales deeply. “Your powers don’t hold sway over me, Dorothea. I’m not mortal.”

Cool air stings his ear as Dorothea moves behind him, her hand skimming nonchalantly over his back as she passes. Her eyes dim with boredom. Felix is always so serious, and she’s not in the mood for his cold condescension. He should be more excited, considering what’s about to happen. “Even if I _could_ charm you that way, it would be no fun,” she says with a huff. “Your favor is something worth earning fairly, I think,” she continues, staring at the side of Felix’s head. His jaw is clenched tightly in silent anticipation, eyes set forward and beyond their hilly perch. Dorothea’s own emerald gaze alights with an idea. “What if I best you in a fight?”

He smirks at that; but she counts it as a smile, the only thing she really wanted out of this exchange. His arm shifts to reach for the hilt of his sword as he turns to face her. “I’d like to see you try.”

A horn roars through the cool air as a gust of wind billows the great colorful banners scattered across the battlefield. The quiet scene is finally transitioning into its next magnificent movement. Dorothea inhales, an aria of might and sorrow building in the back of her throat. "It will have to wait, then," she says. Felix is already moving, ready to meet the action.

“Find me after the battle,” he calls out, his voice dark and rumbling with growing excitement. “We’ll see if victory is something you want badly enough.”


End file.
